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Slaughter At Stringybark Creek

Chapter Seventeen

1. Cederwyn Whitefurr

8th September, 2017

All Rights Reserved.

Four quick shots rang out, Ironclad's mare whinnied in fear as Ironclad grunted and gasped, the bullets striking him in the back, hitting with the force of a angry mare's hoof, before he gasped and slumped forwards, the money he was counting falling from his limp hands and falling into the clear, swift running stream, it uncaring as it washed the money away. Two humans stepped from the bush behind him, then one holstered his pistol and walked over, feeling proud of himself he had just back-shot the legendary Ironclad. As he come right beside Ironclad, the human snorted and looked down in disgust and a cruel, malicious grin, as he began laughing, wondering how he would split the reward for Ironclad's demise. As he knelled down to claim his prize, Ironclad's mare snapped her ears back, then she spun with frightening speed – both hind hooves lifting off the ground and over Ironclad, catching the human square in the chest. There was a sickening snap as his ribs shattered, and he tried to scream, but only a choking gurgle come from him, before he was slammed back against the trunk of a scribbly-gum tree, then slithered to the ground, dead before his body rolled over on its side.

“Fuck you – you killed him!" Screamed the other human.

As he went to snatch his own pistol, but Ironclad grunted, then he rolled over as the human stared wide-eyed at the gasping and moaning Stallion, before Ironclad twisted and with a roar of his own pistol, he fired twice in response, both shots striking and sending the human crashing onto his back as he stood on shaking hooves and coughed, before he tore away the drizabone coat, revealing the thick iron plating which had saved him from being killed then and there, as the thick plate had stopped the bullets – but Ironclad knew he'd have bruises for weeks afterwards. Sure, the armour Owen had made him saved him from bullets – but the kinetic impact was not absorbed and it felt to Ironclad, like he'd been stomped on by a herd of wild horses. Gasping his last, the human's eyes were wide, as Ironclad stumbled and fell to his knees, before he weakly rose and shuddered, then glared down at the human.

“Why did you force my hand - “ Ironclad whispered, still drawing great heaving breaths through his nostrils, as he fought to reinflate his lungs. “You could have dropped your gun – I would have let you walk away..."

Ironclad sighed sadly, then slowly drew back the hammer on his pistol, as the human gasped and choked up blood – then there was a single loud crack and Ironclad hung his head – feeling sadness and pain, but knowing he ended the human's misery – as humanely as he could. Taking what money he could from the broken open iron trunk, he filled the saddlebags and then left the rest – others would find it – or the wind and rain would claim it – Ironclad didn't really care...

*

Constable Kelsie sat in the Police station, her mind conflicted as equally powerful thoughts and emotions fought a war within her. She felt compelled to uphold the law, to its fullest extent – yet she felt a bond with this Stallion – more than she did naturally, with Anthropomorphic people – more than, as she admitted to herself mentally, than the moment of desire when they had shared breath, as unintentionally as it had been...

Her revelry was smashed, as she snorted and felt someone shaking her gently by the shoulder. Rocking back on the chair, she slammed it back on all four feet, before her hooves slapped against the floor with a loud smack. With a startled gasp, Kelsie come back to her senses, then stared at the Doctor who stood patiently, one hand resting on his heavy satchel that was slung over the opposing shoulder.

“Daydreaming, were we?" Chuckled the Doctor, as he smiled gently at her.

With a snort, Kelsie glared at him, her ears partially folded, before she laughed nervously and nodded. “I was, I admit it - “

Giving Kelsie a sideways glance, he smiled an enigmatic smile, then raised an eyebrow. Kelsie's flattening ears and flaring nostrils told him more from long study of anthropomorphic mannerisms, than any words she could have used.

“Well, yes, that may be so – but we need to talk about Clanton, preferably sooner – rather than later..."

“With the Sargent - “ Kelsie began, then trailed off.

With a disgusted snort, the Doctor helped Kelsie to her hooves, then followed her out the door, Kelsie locking the front door with an old iron key, before they walked along the timber boardwalk. Kelsie realised the Doctor felt the same as she did, the Sargent was still dangerous, but more a nuisance and irritation in her hoof – like a thorn – than real danger.

“I've been meaning to talk to you, I've – just not had the time to spare and - “ Kelsie sighed, then shut her muzzle hard enough for the Doctor to hear the click of her large, blunt teeth.

“You seem to be distracted, my dear Constable – is everything alright? I don't have your senses, or your people's heightened sense of smell and such – sometimes – I wonder how your people manage to put up with humans, I truly do – our stench must make your kind almost physically sick at times!"

Kelsie waved a paw negligently, dismissing the Doctor's courteous, yet pointed commentary, as she led him towards the Stockade, then unlocked the thick padlock at the front door and pulled the iron bound door open.

“After you, after all, I may be many things, but I'm still a gentleman!" Smiled the Doctor, giving Kelsie a slight bow.

With a flush that crept up her cheeks and tinted her inner ears, Kelsie stepped into the Stockade and the Doctor followed – he had noticed her flushing in her ears, and he smiled to himself, noting Kelsie moved with a much freer gait and a distinctive happier movement to her body language. It didn't take much imagination, to realise this young Filly was experiencing love and adoration – as much as she tried to hide it behind her professional veneer.

“Clanton, the Doctor is here..." Kelsie called out, as she unlocked the cell.

From the coughing, then the language that Clanton ground out, Kelsie blinked then looked over her shoulder at the Doctor, who merely chuckled softly.

“I think he's feeling better already, seems the medicines we've been force feeding him are working!" Claimed the Doctor, as he sent Kelsie for a bucket of fresh water. “Now, Clanton, how are you feeling today?"

Clanton lifted his head, then as the wracking cough folded him over and he shuddered, then Doctor knelt down and gently tugged at the scruff on Clanton's neck, watching as it settled back again, then he nodded in satisfaction.

“Good, very good, I know you don't like the medicine Clanton, but its working – now, be strong my young Buck, we're going to get you out of here and - “

Kelsie gasped, the bucket falling from her nerveless hands, splashing its contents across the floor as it make a thud on the straw.

“You – you're going too - “ She began, then violently shook her head. “You can't - “

Rising, the Doctor turned to Kelsie, looking at the spilled water, then at her, before he raised his eyebrows. “Why can't I take him from this cold, dank stockade? You are, believe it or not, the senior Constable now, you write the logs and whatever else you do, don't you?"

“I - “ Kelsie stammered, as she frowned and thought. “Yes...but I can not - “

“You can, and you will," Spoke the Doctor, as his hand raised and he gently poked her in the velvety nose. “Have you reported that Clanton has been imprisoned? Have you sent off word about the charges arrayed against him?"

“No, but - “ Kelsie flustered, then wrung her paws together. “No..."

Placing both hands on her shoulders, the Doctor looked Kelsie straight in the eyes, then he raised both eyebrows and Kelsie wilted.

“Then there will be – no issue, releasing Clanton into my care, so I can keep him warm and take better care of him, rather than leaving him locked up like a criminal? You and I both know, he's innocent of the charges brought against him, so...I'm not asking Constable, I'm telling you – release Clanton to me, now..." He informed her, calmly, politely, but with determination in his voice.

Kelsie swallowed, then she quickly fumbled at her belt, before she crouched down and unclasped the shackles and collar that bound Clanton. Carefully, the Doctor crouched as well, placing his arms beneath Clanton's legs and upper body before he lifted him with a slight grunt and carried him out of the stockade.

“I could be hung for this - “ Kelsie whispered nervously, wringing her paws.

“You could, but I'm sure you can falsify the logs – after all – you've been doing it for some time, I bet..." Grunted the Doctor, as he began carrying Clanton, who clung to the human weakly, shivering and coughing.

Kelsie watched him, before she hung her head, knowing the Doctor had suspected as much, as Clanton was still alive – sick, weak and in poor spirits, but alive – not hung, dead and buried in Stringybark's graveyard...

*

“Fuck the lot of you, you feral-cocksuckers!" Raged Sgt. MacGoven as he weaved his way down the main thoroughfare, reeking of alcohol and sweat, and those few who caught his scent, could smell the excrement and urine that soaked his uniform. Many – be they human or Anthropomorphic, fled at his approach, not wanting to be the centre of his attentions. “Where's that Mare fucking Stallion?"

No-one answered him, no-one dared, as they melted away, then hid themselves until he passed them by and a few braver souls ventured back out, even fewer shook their heads sadly as they looked at how far the Sargent had fallen from grace. He swigged from a bottle, much of the fiery liquor spilling down his chin and soaking into his already matted and filthy tunic. With a snort, he threw the bottle to the dusty roadway, where it exploded into fragments and he weaved and belched, before scratching at his wattled chin and laughing maniacally as he resumed randomly wandering, before he staggered and crashed into a hitching rail where he clung to it as his knees buckled and he grumbled and berated the air, carrying on a conversation like he was talking to someone, others could not see.

*

Ironclad placed a paw against his mare's nose, and she stopped, her ears flicking as she awaited her beloved owners instructions. Ironclad peered through the thick foliage at the old trappers hut, his eyes missing nothing as he scanned the bush-land about his new lair, before he took his fingers off the mare's nose and she lipped at him, before obediently following. After he unsaddled her and brushed her down, he went and slipped his heavy plate helm off, then dunked his head into the horse trough, eliciting a snort from his mare, as she waited patiently for a drink herself. Ironclad chuckled, as he began unbuckling the leather straps that held his armour on, carefully placing each piece on a crude bench before he reached to unclasp the buckles of the chest-plate – before a snort from his mare alerted him and he spun with frightening speed, his paws moving almost faster than vision could track – and he had the pistol in his hand, cocked and pointed in a heartbeat.

With a terrified squeal, the Vixen cowered, cringing piteously as Ironclad blinked and shuddered, then he frowned as he recognised the young Vixen as the child that Owen and Feredwyn were raising. She burst into tears, shaking in sheer fright, before Ironclad cursed and dropped the pistol back into his holster and crouched down, holding his arms out to her.

“Shhh..." Ironclad whispered, trying to soothe the hysterically crying Vixen, who trembled and sobbed, before her fear of being alone won out and she ran to him, then cuddled him as best she could. “Hey...shhh now, its alright little one, it's alright – I won't hurt you..."

“Uncle..." Sobbed the Vixen, as she shuddered and clung to Ironclad with frightening strength, as her fear slowly began to ease, but the tears kept flowing, as she sniffled and sobbed.

Ironclad's ears flicked and he frowned, before gently enfolding his arms around her and cuddling her closer. “You...you shouldn't be out here, its – dangerous and - “

Looking up at him, with huge, tear filled eyes, she sniffled and quivered, melting Ironclad's heart in seconds, before he scooped her up and swung her up onto his back, then began hobbling around on his paws and knees, giving the Vixen a horseback ride, and before too long, her tears ceased and were soon replaced with timid giggles and finally, a smile. After about ten minutes, Ironclad gasped and wheezed, before he grunted and gently slid her off his back, then again gave her a tender cuddle. Just as he set it back on her black furred foot-paws, Ironclad knelt down and he took her furred cheeks in his large paws, then stared into her eyes.

“How did you find me - “ Ironclad whispered, as he tried to keep his voice gentle and quiet, but the paranoia and fear within him began to make him wonder if finally – he hadn't made a terrible mistake and let his defences down.

“Quite the little tracker, isn't she?" Angelica spoke, as she stepped from the far edge of the clearing, then gasped as Ironclad's paw seemed to magically spawn a pistol, which pointed straight between the now scared Whitetail Doe's breasts.

In a heartbeat, Ironclad had thrust the little Vixen behind him, and as she peered around his broad hips, her eyes widened, then she squealed and ran towards the Doe, who stared at Ironclad like a deer stared transfixed at a predator.

With a visible shiver that ran from his ears to his ankles, Ironclad swallowed and eased off the pressure on the pistol, then his thumb eased the hammer back down.

“Momma Angelica!" Squealed the Vixen, as she ran to the Doe, who shuddered and swallowed, as realisation sank in, just how damn close she had come to losing her life.

“Do not ever..." Ironclad growled softly, as he shuddered. “Surprise me like that..."

As he dropped the pistol back into his holster, he shot the Doe a glare that reinforced what he'd just said, but her fear was quickly forgotten as she knelt and cuddled the Vixen, who wrapped her slender arms around the Doe's neck and cuddled with childish love and affection.

Rising, Ironclad sighed, then leaned back against the roughly cut slab sided wall of his temporary home, as he stared mistrustfully at the Doe, who gently disengaged the Vixen and hung her head.

“What do you want?" Ironclad growled, as he turned about and began removing the last of his armour. “Relax Doe, I can smell your scent from here – I'm not going to harm you, or the child – if you knew even half of what I've done to protect your kind..."

Biting her lip, Angelica swallowed, then she took a timid half-step, her cloven hooves muffled by the thin grass as she reached down to her belt and Ironclad's eyes narrowed, before she splayed her fingers out and shuddered.

“Tell me what it is - “ He hissed at her, his quivering body flooded with adrenaline.

“Constable Kelsie – wanted to arrange a meeting, just you and her – too - “ Angelica stammered.

With a snort, Ironclad relaxed slightly, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing. “How do I know this isn't some trap to capture me? I know well there's a fifteen thousand pound bounty on my furred head..."

Angelica shuddered, the wealth beyond her wildest dreams almost tempting her, but her friendship with Kelsie won out over the more human-like emotions of greed and betrayal.

“Constable Kelsie told me, something intimate and close – I will tell you, what you did, when you were alone with her in the woods, when you got the drop on her and could have murdered her in cold blood..."

Ironclad's eyes narrowed more, as he snorted and his paws trembled. “Watch your wording Doe - “

“I'm sorry - “ Angelica admitted, holding her paws out, palms facing him in a gesture of submission. “Kelsie, she told me you had her, you could have – but you didn't, you...did something unexpected, even though she was a Constable, and a Police Horse – she said how your - “

Angelica swallowed and trembled. “You shared breath with her – an intensely and deeply meaningful thing only equines do - “

Ironclad sighed, then his angry facade fell away, before he sighed again and nodded, knowing Kelsie would never have revealed such a deeply personal thing, to a stranger. It had been a compulsion, almost instinctive and feral – something from his deep subconscious – that one moment of perfect trust, an Kelsie hadn't refused him outright – or gunned him down when he showed his trust, and handed her pistol back to her...so he shuddered from ears to ankles, then nodded once.

“Constable Kelsie may come here – but you must promise me – both of you – you will never come here again...as the risk to you both...is a price I can not pay, should something happen. Now, go, tell Kelsie...tell her...I accept..."

To Be Continued...